Too happy to write

We’ve been taught to examine going through something emotionally rough, observes columnist Laila. But why don’t we give the same contemplation to happiness?

I struggle to write when I’m happy.
 
Sitting in the silent train carriage, I squinted at the sun lit fields rushing past the window while wracking my brain for inspiration. I tried mining into the deep pit where my difficult episodes inspired my previous columns. Suffering seemed to be an essential catalyst. This month, I ran into a problem:
 
I have simply been too happy.
 
I searched for a dark thought to write about and came up blank.
 
Objectively, this is a good thing. And yet a question kept snagging at me: does reflection only come naturally when we are in pain?
 
Think about it. The moment you go through something emotionally rough, the first advice you get is to journal about it, put it under the knife, and immediately begin the process of internalising. But when you are happy, does anyone tell you to do the same thing? To turn that feeling over just as carefully?
 
No. Happiness is an emotion meant only to be felt. Embraced. Left alone, the way you leave the sun to set on its own.
 
But I think that deserves a second look.

It matters to understand why you are happy and what quietly assembled that feeling. To save it for the grey days and remember that it was real.
 
I want to write about the delightful chaos of calls with my family that go on for hours at a time. I want to hold onto the wildness of my first birthday house party. I want to slowly savor the contentment of waking to warm sun slanting through my window, and watching it, hours later, bleed softly into the waters of de Maas. These moments deserve the same careful attention I have always given to my difficult ones.
 
On the other side, the side that is harder to admit out loud, sadness should sometimes be allowed to simply exist, too.
 
I have the bad habit of instantly reaching for frameworks the moment a dark cloud storms into my mind. Always analysing, categorising, trying to fix things before it fully lands. As a result, I’m flustered about where to put difficult things that linger on. Like the slow painful grind of a thesis or a straining crush that never really dissolved.
 
I want to stew in my frustrations without immediately trying to label them. I want to survive feeling bruised without conducting a full examination. I want to be okay with not being okay and let that be enough.
 
We have been taught to only examine pain and simply enjoy happiness.
 
Maybe it’s time to level the playing field.